


Little Hooded Hermione

by VoldyIsMyFather



Series: Little Hooded Hermione [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Song Of Fire and Ice Universe, Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Crossover, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Hermione Granger as Red Riding Hood, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Slow Burn, Swearing, Wolves Attack, badass grandmother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoldyIsMyFather/pseuds/VoldyIsMyFather
Summary: Hermione goes to visit her Grandmother in the wolfs wood, as she does once every quarter. Unfortunately this time things don't go quite to plan. Based on Little Red Riding Hood, with a twist.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Jon Snow
Series: Little Hooded Hermione [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006530
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34
Collections: Cast the Dice 2020





	1. Hermione

**Author's Note:**

> Week 5  
> Roll: 2 4 4 6 6  
> Score: Fours  
> Prompt: Fairytale  
> Pairing: Jon Snow/ Hermione
> 
> So I planned this to be less than 2000 words. Jon and Hermione weren't playing ball, and then her Grandmother turned up and well everything kinda went out the window.
> 
> For the purpose of the prompt, this is only a two chapter fic. But there will be another part to come.

Hermione ducked out of her small home where she lived with her parents. She was on her way to visit her grandmother as she did once every moon quarter. Whilst Hermione and her parents lived in Winter town; her grandmother lived in the Wolfswood working as a woods witch. Hermione would bring her grandmother fresh bread, jams, and some vegetables, and in exchange, her grandmother would give her some herbs, poultices, and other medicines which Hermione’s mother would use when treating the other smallfolk who lived in Winter town.

Humming the tune of a song she had overheard some travellers singing in the Smoking Log, she made her way out of the town and begun the couple mile trek to the woods. It didn’t take her long to reach the outline of the woods, and she was grateful not to have met many early morning travellers or other townsfolk on her journey, knowing it would have waylaid her and she grew tired of hearing about how exciting it was that King Robert was coming to visit.

Dipping into the woods, she followed the same path she always took, knowing the route by heart. Her mother had used to take her on visits to see her grandmother when she was younger, telling her stories of the children of the forest who lived in Westeros before the First Men came. Hermione remembered skipping through the woods, pretending she was a child of the forest. Those were simpler times. Now she was a woman flowered and had been for a few years. She knew her parents were expecting her to find a man and start her own family. None of the men in Winter town interested her, and she couldn’t see herself settling down with any of them any time soon. 

A wolf howled in the distance, and she paused in her tracks at the unusual sound. Whilst wolves were rumoured to live in the woods; she’d never heard of them being this close to Winterfell before.

“Of course,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head as she remembered that the Stark children had recently adopted a litter of direwolf puppies. She’d not seen them but heard some of the other townsfolk talking about them. Maybe she would catch a glimpse today, she thought wistfully.

A few feet further and she caught sight of her grandmother’s cottage in the distance. Smiling, she picked up her pace, calling out as she did so. It wasn’t until she got closer that she saw a pair of figures coming out of the cottage that she didn’t recognise. They seemed to nicely dressed to be woods folk visiting her grandmother for herbs and poultices or Wildlings who had managed to cross the Wall. She didn’t recognise the symbol on their arms either which suggested it wasn’t anyone local to Winterfell. She slowed her approach, unsure if the men were friendly or not.

“My, my, my lads,” a voice drawled, as she got closer, “what do we have here?”

Hermione felt a shiver go up her spine, as the man looked her up and down.

“Who are you?” she asked bravely, though she felt on edge as two more men appeared from behind her cottage.

“I’m Ramsay Snow,” he advised, “The son of Lord Roose Bolton.”

Hermione knew that name; Lord Roose Bolton was the lord of Dreadfort, a keep that was east of Winterfell.

“Nice to meet you, milord,” she greeted dipping to a curtsy, before slowly taking a step back.

“What is your name Miss?” he questioned, stepping towards her, a smirk on his face as he realised, she was afraid of him.

“Hermione,” she spluttered, fear bubbling in her blood, had they harmed her grandmother? She took another step back before taking a deep breath and asking, “May I ask why you are at my Grandmother’s cottage?”

“We were passing through on a hunt, Hermione,” he replied, her name sounding as she was a meal when it came from his lips, she didn’t like the glint in his eyes that accompanied it, “It was empty when we go here, so we decided to rest.”

Hermione cursed as his companion’s attention turned to her, their eyes hungry, and she didn’t like the glint in their eyes. She fingered the blade she carried up her sleeve, knowing it would only do her so good, maybe she could get a few swipes in before they overpowered her. She considered her options as she counted the number of men before her, they didn’t appear to have horses, could she outrun them? A growling noise caused her to reconsider, as her eyes drifted to the noise, and she saw a pair of dogs tied up. She might escape the men, but those dogs looked like they would hunt her down. Taking another step back, she found herself pressed against something hard. Knowing it couldn’t be a tree she went to let out a scream only to find a large, gloved hand covering her mouth, his other arm wrapped itself around her torso pulling her close.

“You were right, boss,” the owner of the hand, smirked, “They always try to run away.”

“You weren’t going to run away now where you Hermione?” Ramsay smirked as he slowly made his way towards her.

She wriggled in an attempt to free herself, but to no avail.

“Oh Hermione,” Ramsay continued as if he hadn’t noticed her struggle, “Me and my men just want to play a game with you.”

He’d reached her now, and he brought his hand up to stroke the side of her face, “It’s a simple game really, all you to do is run.”

Hermione recoiled, knowing there would be a catch.

“If we catch you, me and my men get to have our fun with you, but if you escape well you get to live,” He smiled wickedly at her, “Think you can win?”

Hermione was about to retort when she heard the same howling she had heard earlier; it was closer now. Voices followed, and Hermione prayed to the Old Gods that they would come this way.

Thankfully, her prayers were answered as no sooner than they had left her head, had a white wolf appeared running at speed and knocking one of Ramsay’s men to the floor and ripped his throat out in the process.

“Kill it,” Ramsay turned and snapped in anger, reaching towards his sword on his belt.

Hermione kicked out, realising Ramsay was still close enough that she might be able to cause him to stumble. Ramsay staggered but unfortunately didn’t fall. He turned around and slapped her across her face.

“I might just fuck -,” he started but didn’t get to add another word as another wolf, this one grey had appeared and tackled him to the ground.

The man who had been holding her dropped her, as the wolf bit into Ramsay’s neck.

“Run,” he hollered, to the others as he took several steps back and turned only to come face to face with a sword.

“Are you okay, Miss?” the owner asked.

“I am now, milord, thank you,” Hermione smiled bowing at the sight of Jon Snow, who she knew to be one of Lord Stark’s children. She looked around and saw that the other men and been captured by Lord Snow’s companions and breathed a sigh of relief. Now she just needed to find her grandmother.

“I’m not a lord Miss,” he grumbled in response, and she got the impression he’d made that comment a lot, “and it was no problem.”

“Jon,” one of his companions greeted, as he approached, a cocky grin on his face as he did so “Are you going to introduce us to the little lady?”

“I’m Hermione,” she stated bowed, knowing that this must be Lord Theon Greyjoy, a man she’d heard many rumours about, she looked around at the other men and saw that one had red hair making him Lord Robb Stark, “You must be Lord Theon Greyjoy.”

“Heard of me?” he winked at an attempt to charm her, she’d heard rumours of his promiscuous ways and had avoided being on his radar until now it seemed.

“Yes,” she answered curtly, adding a quick, “Milord,” to ensure she didn’t get in any trouble for failing to address a man of his station.

“Leave her Theon,” Robb Stark laughed as he approached, joining the trio, “Nice to meet you miss, I’m Robb.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mi Lord,” Hermione curtseyed and offered the man a small smile.

“Please call me Robb,” he grinned at her, “You are from Winter town, right? I believe I’ve seen you around there.”

“Yes, mi – Robb,” she confirmed, “My father runs the bakery.”

“How come you are all the way out here?” Jon asked, speaking for the first time since Lord Greyjoy and his brother had joined them.

“I was visiting my grandmother who lives in this cottage, Mr Snow,” she answered, “I come out every quarter and bring her vegetables and bread in exchange for herbs and poultices that my mother uses to treat the sick and injured in Winter town.”

“Please just call me Jon,” he smiled at her, “Your grandmother is with Ser Rodrik Cassell, we found her whilst hunting for bandits in the woods, and he stayed with her as she refused to return to her cottage.”

Hermione smiled at the mention of her strong-willed grandmother, refusing to be afraid of some bandits.

“Though I must admit I am glad she refused,” Robb added, cutting in, “If this is her cottage, then she might have been attacked returning here.”

Hermione nodded, also grateful for the small mercy.

Silence fell over the group, she could tell that Lord Greyjoy was keen to try and flirt with her some more, but the glances being sent his way by Robb was holding him off.

“It was also lucky that she mentioned, her granddaughter coming to visit today; otherwise we wouldn’t have ridden out so far,” Theon spoke softly, his eyes glued to her form.

Hermione didn’t want to think about what might have happened had they not arrived when they did. Allowing herself to slump to the ground, she felt tears roll down her cheeks; she knew just what would have happened; there was no might about it. Ramsay had told her exactly what he planned to do to her.

The three men looked at each other, unsure what to do, how to comfort her or console her. She felt something soft brush against her skin, and a warm tongue lick her cheek.

“Ghost,” she heard Jon whisper, a low warning to what she guessed was his wolf.

The wolf – Ghost – continued to nuzzle against her, offering her some comfort. She reached out and stroked the wolfs fur, rubbing her hand in circles around the area behind his ears, “Thank you for saving me Ghost,” she whispered as she pressed a light kiss against his temple, not worrying about his blood-stained face.

“Are you okay?” Robb asked, crouching down behind Ghost so he could look into her eyes without looking down on her.

“That man,” she spluttered, “Ramsay, he threatened to rape me, and let his friends rape me, I was just thinking what would have happened had you not been here to save me.”

The three men shared a look at the mention of Lord Bolton’s son, though she pretended not to notice.

“We were here,” Jon stated, and Hermione got the impression he wasn’t sure on how best to comfort her, “And he’s dead, so I don’t think you’d have to worry about him hurting anyone else again.”

Hermione nodded and offered a weak smile, and she looked around and saw that the remained of Ramsay’s men were tied up and being watched by a couple of Stark guards.

“Let’s get you back to Winterfell,” Robb smiled at her, “I will get word to Ser Rodrik and have him bring your grandmother to the caste as well.”

Hermione was about to refuse, but the look he sent her made her reconsider.

“You can ride with me if you want,” Theon winked at her, his tone was light, and Hermione sensed he was trying to make her feel better, and the offer was more about goodwill than his earlier comments had been.

“Hermione should ride with Jon,” Robb suggested, a strange smile on his lips as his eyes darted between the pair of them.

“Robb,” Jon spluttered, his face going red.

“It will look better if I’m the one bringing Ramsay back,” Robb stated, “Theon can-“

“Theon cannot,” the Iron Islander spat, “I’m not bringing back the other dead body to Winterfell.”

Hermione let out a chuckle at the man’s comment, which earned her a glare.

“I was actually going to suggest you pull the prisoners along behind you,” Robb added a small smile on his lips.

“I can do that,” Theon agreed, before sending another wink in her direction and adding, “But I’d still rather ride with Hermione.”

Once everything was settled, and Robb had sent one of the men to find Ser Rodrik the group was off.

Robb helped her climb onto the horse and suggested she wrap her arms around Jon to ensure she didn’t fall off the back of the horse. Nodding her head in agreement, she did as he recommended and rested her head against his back as they rode off towards Winterfell, lead by Robb and Lord Greyjoy.

“So how long have you lived in Winter town?” Jon asks quietly as if he was afraid; he’d be overheard. Maybe he was worried his brother and the Greyjoy heir would tease him if they heard.

“All my life,” she replied, “You?”

“Since I was little,” he answered, “My father brought me to Winterfell after the war.”

“What about your mother?” she asked, knowing little was publicly known about the woman who had caused Lord Stark to betray his matrimonial vows, whoever she was she was believed to be of great beauty.

“I don’t know,” he sighed sadly, and she regretted being so insensitive, “I don’t even know her name.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, “I shouldn’t have said anything; I forgot my place.”

“You shouldn’t apologise,” Jon offered, “It’s not your fault, you have nothing to apologise for.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes, before she decided to ask him another question, after all, she didn’t know the next time when she would get to ride a horse with a handsome lord.

“What’s your favourite thing to do in Winterfell?” she questioned, hoping it would be an easier topic than their last.

“I like learning to fight with swords,” he answered, “I’m hoping to join my Uncle Benjen at the Night's Watch. Hopefully, I will find honour there.”

She bit her tongue, not wanting to tell him about the rumours she’d heard about those forced to go to the Wall, after all, what did she know, she wasn’t a lady or anyone of any importance.

“What about you?” he asked, “What do you like doing?”

“I like learning from my mother and grandmother how to make poultices and helping them treat the townsfolk,” she answered with a smile.

“Maybe I can introduce you to Maester Luwin when we get to Winterfell,” Jon advised.

“That would be nice, Jon,” Hermione nodded.

“Do you have a husband, Hermione?” Jon asked as they neared Winterfell.

“Husband?” she queried, not understanding why he was asking, “Us smallfolk, don’t really get married Jon, we just live with someone and have children together.”

“Oh,” Jon stated, almost shocked by her answer, “Um, is there a man you live with then?”

“No, just my parents,” Hermione advised, “They keep hinting that I need to move out and find a man, but I haven’t found one that interests me yet.”

“That okay,” Jon nodded, “I was worried someone might get the wrong idea if you returned to Winterfell on my horse.”

“Oh,” she muttered, feeling slightly upset by this, though she didn’t know why.

“So, your parents aren’t married then?” he asked, slightly changing the topic.

“No,” Hermione stated.

“Aren’t you worried that people will think you are a bastard?” he pressed.

Hermione got the impression; he was asking as it was a personal matter, something he faced on a regular basis and not because he was being mean, so she thought carefully before she answered.

“We don’t get married, none of us do, so I don’t have to worry about someone knowing as the person I’m likely to have children with is likely to have parents who aren’t married either,” she advised before adding, “I hope you take no offence, Jon but it tends to be only Lords, Ladies and Knights who worry about whether or not someone is a bastard or not.”

Jon didn’t respond, and Hermione hoped she hadn’t insulted him or spoken out of turn. Deciding to explain herself further, she continued, “We just care about whether someone is kind or not, and mainly concerned with looking after our families.”

Jon was still quiet, and Hermione got the impression he was thinking over what she had said. Deciding she would let him think, she took to humming the song she had been humming this morning as she left.


	2. Jon

Jon listened to Hermione humming as they followed Robb and Theon up to Hunter’s Gate and into Winterfell. Ghost and Grey Wind running ahead of them. He thought about what she had said about the smallfolk not caring about marriage and whether someone was a bastard or not. It explained why she had greeted him the same way she had greeted Greyjoy and Robb. As far as she was concerned, they were all Lords.

“Welcome to Winterfell, Hermione,” Jon stated as they rode through the gate and came to a stop.

Robb was already off his horse and approaching them, having sent a guard to find their father whilst they came in.

“Here let me help you down, Hermione,” Robb smiled, and Jon felt the familiar jealous feeling he got around his brother when he saw Hermione smile back at him. This time the feeling felt worse, and Jon wasn’t sure why.

“Thank you, Lord Robb,” she replied, taking his hand. They were in company now, and Jon knew well how important it would be for her to keep the correct address.

“Not at all, Hermione,” his brother sighed, sending him a knowing look suggesting he was also thinking the same.

Jon climbed off his horse, leaving Hermione talking to his brother and led his horse to the stable. The guards who accompanied them followed suit. Jon took a few minutes whilst he was tying up his horse to compose himself before he re-joined Hermione and his brother. She was different than other women, and he found himself enjoying her company. He also liked that she rebuked Theon’s advances, though he suspected it was more because of her recent ordeal than lack of actual interest.

Jon sighed and exited the stable, making his way back over to Hermione and Robb, who had been joined by Theon. The group were talking about something but quietened when he got closer. Leading him to think they were talking about him.

“Hermione was just telling us about how the smallfolk don’t get married,” Robb advised, sending him a knowing look.

Jon nodded, “she told me on the ride over.”

A thundering of hooves caused the group to look at the gate as a horse sped in, with a red-faced Ser Rodrik and the old lady they had met early whacking him with a wooden stick as she sat behind him on the horse. The sight was quite comical, not that they would tell the knight that. The guard they sent to find him, followed on his horse.

“Grandmother,” Hermione shouted, walking towards the horse “stop hitting that poor man with your stick!”

“Hermione my dear, he wasn’t riding fast enough,” her grandmother replied, allowing the guard to help her off the horse, “I heard you’d been attacked, and I was worried.”

“Grandmother,” Jon watched Hermione put her hands on her hips in a similar way he’d seen Lady Catelyn do when she was telling him off, “That is still no excuse.”

“I’m not apologising,” the old woman retorted putting her own hands on her hips, which given that she was shorter than her granddaughter wasn’t as intimidating as it could have been, “Now come and give your grandmother a hug.”

Jon watched as Hermione greeted her grandmother and smiled, knowing that Hermione had been clearly worried back in the woods about her grandmother’s safety.

“So, which of you lovely men do I have to thank for my granddaughter’s safety?” she asked, approaching the three of them. Like earlier when they’d met her in the woods, she’d chosen to forgo proper etiquette, and addressed them as she’d seen fit. They had all found it amusing that she’d not even batted an eyelid when one of the guards had tried to correct her.

“I think its mainly our wolves, Rose,” Robb smiled at the woman, “Though my brother Jon also did a bit of rescuing himself.”

“Well then Jon, come and let this old woman give you a hug in gratitude,” Rose grinned at him, taking hold of his arm she yanked him down to her height and threw her arms around his neck. Just as he thought he was safe, she pressed her lips against his cheek, giving him a sloppy kiss.

“Grandma!” Hermione spluttered, “I’m so sorry about her Jon.”

It took Jon a few seconds to register that she hadn’t gone back to using his title, and in fact had kept using his first name. He decided he liked how it sounded.

“He’s a handsome one that one,” her grandmother continued as if she hadn’t heard her.

Jon felt himself blush at the compliment.

“Grandmother!” Hermione scolded, a blush forming on her own cheeks.

“He’s the spitting image of his grandfather Rickard at his age,” the old woman continued, ignoring Hermione’s shouts of protest, “Now that was a man I wouldn’t have minded getting to know.”

Greyjoy burst out laughing at that comment, and one glance at his brother was all it took to know his brother wanted to do the same.

Jon was a bit shocked at this woman’s lack of propriety; it wasn’t polite to talk like that in company.

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione muttered, shaking her head.

“I love your Grandmother,” Theon sniggered, “Mainly because she was hitting Ser Rodrik with a stick and now because she said she wanted to fuck Lord Stark’s father.”

“Who as you so eloquently put it Theon, wanted to fuck my father?” a teasing, but a firm voice called out from behind them.

“Fuck,” Theon cursed, knowing who the voice belonged too.

“Father,” Robb greeted, “Rose here was just telling us about how Jon looks like a grandfather.”

“Was she now?” their father smiled knowingly, “And who might Rose be?”

“My grandmother, milord,” Hermione stated, bowing as she did so, “She’s a woods witch and seems to remember your father.”

“This is Hermione, fa-Lord Stark,” Jon introduced the brunette, using his father’s title, as Lady Catelyn was by his side, “Her father owns the bakery in Winter town, she was visiting her grandmother in the woods when she was attacked.”

“I assume this is the reason we have a handful of men in the dungeon, and we have two bodies who look like they were attacked by your wolves?” his father asked.

“They were the men we’d heard about father,” Robb took over, sending a glance in his direction, “When we got close to Rose’s cottage, one of the men was holding Hermione and Ramsay was, well he’d struck her across the face. Ghost had already tackled one of the men to the ground, and Grey Wind tackled Ramsay. We subdued the men, and Hermione told us what he threatened to do to her, which I won’t repeat in front of her grandmother or mother.”

His father nodded before asking, “Did you know it was Ramsay before attacking?”

“No,” Theon answered this time shaking his head, “They weren’t wearing any sigils to suggest they belonged to a noble house Lord Stark.”

“We only knew after Hermione told us his name,” Jon added, “Lord Stark.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “I will think of a way of explaining this to Lord Bolton, meanwhile let’s get Hermione and Rose inside and seen over by Maester Luwin.”

Jon offered Hermione his arm, as Robb did the same for her grandmother. Surprisingly, the old woman took it without a fuss. He pretended not to notice the glare; Lady Catelyn sent his way. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it this time.

“Oh Ser Rodrik, why do you look like you’ve been sparing?” their father addressed his Master-at-Arms, “I thought you’d gone with the boys this morning.”

Jon watched as Theon snickered, before covering his mouth as Lady Catelyn’s gaze fell on him.

“That woman doesn’t need anyone do defend her,” the knight sighed pointing at Hermione’s grandmother, “She’s dangerous with her stick.”

“I’m sorry again, Ser,” Hermione muttered an apology.

“Don’t worry about it, lass,” Ser Rodrik grunted, “I’ve had worse.”

Jon and Robb led the woman to the Maester’s Tower where Maester Luwin would be. Robb and Rose were walking slightly ahead, Rose being relatively quick for a woman of her age.

“So why doesn’t Lady Stark like you?” Hermione asked as they walked, “Is it because of what we talked about earlier?”

He nodded, not wanting to say anymore.

“I won’t speak ill of the lady, but if that is her reason then it’s not a particularly good one,” she smiled at him, before pressing her lips against his cheek, “Thank you for saving me earlier.”

“No problem,” Jon smiled, he certainly preferred her kiss to her grandmothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end for now :)


End file.
